smolfluffball
Dork #1
What’s your name?: “It’s Jasper. Reinhardt. Jasper Reinhardt.”
↳ Nickname/Alias: “Trent calls me Jazzy and Jas. He also calls me Rood, with two o’s, he said. I don’t really like having my name shortened into anything else, if I’m being honest. Jasper works just fine, but I can’t stop Tree from calling me Jazzy, so he gets to be called Tree. Together, we are Jazzy Tree. What a fucking pair.”
How old are you?: “Nineteen.”
Gender?: “Male, forever and always.”
Now, what’s your sexuality and/or romanticism?: “Gay as fuck, but no one would want to date me, so why does it even matter?”
Tell me what you look like: “White boy with medium-ish length blond hair. It’s naturally blond, and kind of wavy. I can pull it back and tie it up if I really want to. Blue eyes, but they’re kind of gray too, so, like, blue-gray eyes. I guess I’d be attractive, if I had a decent personality. Attractive in like, not the super macho way, but more cute. I guess. I’m 5’9 and not a skinny beanpole or chubby, since I actually go for runs pretty frequently. Gotta be fit for when I finally land that hot date, ya know! And… that’s it, right? I just wear dark and dreary clothes, but I know how to style them because I’m not an animal, and, oh, gee! How could I forget my freckles. All over my damn body. But mostly on my cheeks and arms. They’re not charming or endearing or cute; they’re a nuisance.”
Give me those personal deets: “The long and short of it is that I’m an asshole. Like, basically. I mean, God, not really, but Jesus. What should I say? That I’m just prickly because I failed last time, although I actually thought I was doing better? And yet I still bombed the experiment, even though I liked someone and actually made a human friend. I had a bet with Telly that I wouldn’t succeed last time, and I won, so I decided to dig a hole and live in it. That’s what it is. Who cares? God, ya know, I know Telly would absolutely scold me for being so abrasive, so: I’m not really a jerk. It’s truly amazing, wow, extraordinary. I actually get pretty damn attached to people, but I have no friends, so therefore I have no attachments. Except Telly. If anyone hurts that robot, I will cut off their hands and feed them to the sharks. I also have a sense of humor and am not a complete and total jerk, because it goes against my coding. Robot jokes. Great. Fucking nerd. I like animals and robots, obviously, and I don’t want people to get hurt. Like, I’ll get annoyed if people end up hurting themselves over stupid things. Sure, yes, get in a fight, but make sure it’s really worth it. And also, humans, by nature, are not assholes. Just like me. Not an asshole by nature - just hurt. And angry. And trying to be better. It’s a work in progress.”
Other/Trivia: “Do you want a fun fact? Sure ya do. I named the robot when he was first made. His name’s Telltale, but I call him Telly, because I tell him all the things. He sees all the things, too, I swear to God. His name really suits his purpose. Oh, and also? This experiment? It’s ridiculous - I don’t know why people actually believe in it. Prove me wrong, Telly. Find someone who’s my match again, because Trent really worked out, didn’t he?”
How about that backstory?:
"Backstory, huh? I was born to two loving parents in Oregon. I think I’ll refer to them as Mom and Dad, because, ya know, that’s their names. What I called them, all my life. Mom was a stay at home mom during my younger years, until I started kindergarten. Dad was a professor at a popular, fancy university, and he taught robotics. He actually got paid pretty well, because robots are the future, as everyone knows. We weren’t poor growing up, and I got to take piano lessons and dance lessons and martial arts classes all throughout my childhood and high school years. Though I stopped taking dance lessons when I was a freshman, because I was more interested in other things. Dance wasn’t my passion, like, at all. I only did it because my mom did back when she was a kid, and I honestly liked it too, but I wanted to try other things.
Anyway, big events that happened over my lifetime. Nothing that major, honestly. I came out to my parents when I was thirteen and they were cool with it, which I still appreciate, because I’ve heard the stories of how hellish it can be. I was stupidly popular all throughout my life, I was friendly and outgoing and my house was the coolest place to hangout at after school. I got invited to every single party and always had people to sit with at lunch, or to go to dances with, or to just text and hang out with. I also got asked out a lot, because of my freckles, I bet, but nothing really came from any of those past relationships. Like, yeah, I did probably fall in love with someone, but he broke my heart, so it’s whatever. I’m not still bitter about it or anything. We were stupid and young. I’m way better now, obviously. I broke my arm by falling in a sewer, which I went into on a dare with a guy I had a crush on. In hindsight, what a stupid fucking idea. It was so gross.
The sad parts? We had a cat named Chance throughout most of my life, until he passed away when I was twelve. Old age. In his sleep. I was heartbroken. I still miss him. My parents rescued him from a horrible storm before I was born, and they told me he had injuries that were life threatening, but my parents decided he deserved a second chance and they decided to take him to the vet and take care of him. Hence his name. My mom ended up getting a job back when I was like five, and she became a nurse. I remember watching her work late at night, after I was supposed to be in bed. One of my favorite memories is seeing her doze off to sleep at the table, and watching as my dad got her a blanket and sat with her until she woke up. Just watching her sleep, and laughing at the doodles in her notebook. He drank the coffee that she had, because he didn’t want it to go cold, and because they drank the exact same coffee drink. That’s actually how they met, but that’s a story for a different time. My mom loved being a nurse, and she always regaled Dad and I with stories about the kids that she got to work with. I’ll admit it; I was kind of a jealous brat, thinking that those kids got to see my mom more than I did. It really bugged me when I was like six and seven, but I ended up crying about it and my mom comforted me. As moms do, if they’re a good fucking parent. I grew out of it, and we were such a happy family. Mom was there when I woke up every morning (and, sure Dad was too), and she always made me lunch to take to school, so I never had to wait in line. She drew silly things on notes and left them in my lunchbox everyday, even when I was older. I loved them, and I fought with anyone who even dared tease me about them. I miss them.
My mom ended up getting into a car crash on her way home from the grocery store when I was sixteen. It wasn’t her fault: some jackass ran a red light and t-boned her. I remember that same day, we were going to go get a cat at the shelter. My dad had taken a day off work and I got to skip school, because the event was pretty big. A new pet, after four years! Except we never went. Because my mom died. Her injuries were severe and life threatening, and although the doctors thought she might pull through for her family, she didn’t manage to make her way back to us.
I guess she didn’t get a second chance.
Needless to say, that fucking sucked. Hard. To make matters even worse, my dad ended up blaming himself, and I was pissed too, because I could have been the one to go get the stupid fucking cupcakes. I had my license. But no, my mom said, it won’t take very long. I’ll be back in a heartbeat. You won’t even notice I’m gone. She had insisted she go, because she was worried about me driving by myself, since I was still a relatively new driver. It was supposed to be less than fifteen minutes, because she was going to the grocery store that we always went to, which was so close to our house. After that amount of time passed, we were worried. The thing about my mom is that she was always on time, for everything. She always kept her word. But Dad and I heard the sirens. And it was not a good feeling.
After the funeral, my dad told me we were moving to California. After I spent sixteen years in Oregon, with all my friends, and all my plans, and my mom. After I spent sixteen years in the same house, which probably still has that dumb rubber duck in the wall that I left behind after I accidentally poked a hole in it. After everything. I had to say goodbye to my friends, which also sucked, and then we went and moved.
California was nice, but I was not. I was so angry at my dad, because he just left everything that we had behind and acted like it was a new start. I didn’t want a new start. I wanted my old friends and my house. I wanted my mom. I wanted at least one friend that I could talk to, or some pet, or something, because my dad’s new job took him away from me. He was now making robots, instead of teaching about them. He knew that he fucked up by getting the new job, but he was so passionate about it. I didn’t care. We ended up getting into some pretty bad fights in my late teens, and I also got arrested once, because I was an idiot. He actually came home to bail me out, which was great. I didn’t get arrested again, though, because those cuffs aren’t pleasant. Plus, I… I didn’t want to disappoint my dad. Although he disappoints me, but he also works with robots, which is badass, but still.
I did make some new friends after we moved, but I wasn’t the same. I evolved into a grade-A asshole. I don’t know why people tolerated me. After I graduated from high school, I didn’t talk to them again, and they didn’t reach out to me. It was fine, though, because I did have one friend by my side. I also ended up becoming way too interested in robots, because my dad was so passionate about his job, and now I’m studying it in college. I’m going to beat him at his own game.
About six months ago, I found out about the experiment from a source. I was eighteen, and I didn't even want to do it, but I was basically forced to anyway. See, the thing is, I don't want to make friends or fall in love. But since I was forced to come initially, and since I failed the first time around, I get to go again, but this time I get to be the fucking tour guide. With Trent. It's fucking great, and it'll definitely help. Maybe this time around, as the goddamn guide, the person that I like might actually like me back, but I highly doubt that. In fact, my trust in this experiment?
It’s sitting at about zero.”
✩ This following information will NOT be included in the main character thread, but keep this information included when you PM me your sheets! ✩
(I’m including it so you can see what I’m looking for.)
Reason for joining the experiment:
“I was forced.”
Tell me your secrets:
“Suck my dick? Wait, actually, don’t listen to me, Telly. Don’t learn that word. Erase it from your memory, please. Ya know, it’s not a secret, but I guess I do wonder why Trent’s even still here. Didn’t he succeed already? Am I missing something? Why is a nice guy like him still stuck on this island, when he made so many friends last time? Like, the dude even likes ME, so why is he still here?”
Tell me your fears:
“Ducks. Quack quack. Not really. I actually love ducks. They’re cute. I wanted one as a pet, before I was whisked away. You want a fear? My fear is that I’ll be stuck on this island forever, until the day I die, because of certain reasons that I cannot divulge for some other asinine reason. And I don’t like the dark that much. And geese. The bastards.”
Tell me your dreams:
“Casually skips the question. Actually, nah, I’ll answer this too. My dream is to become a better person. Hopefully I can accomplish it this time around without burning down all my bridges.”
Tell me a good memory from your youth:
“Every year, on the nineteenth of December, my mom and dad would take me to go pick out a tree at the Christmas tree farm. When we got home, my mom would make some hot chocolate while my dad set the tree up. After the tree was up, we’d all work together to decorate it. We had this tradition of picking out a new ornament each year, so we always put our new ornaments onto the tree first. I got to go first, every year. We had a playlist that had the best Christmas songs on it, and we always danced around and sang along to the songs. After the hot coco got cold, it always got cold before we got to drink it, we had eggnog and watched whatever Christmas movie was on TV. I got to open two presents. It was always a perfect day. Makes sense, because it’s my birthday, and my parents were amazing. Too bad mom’s dead and dad’s too busy to spend time with his lonely, loser, lameass son.”
This is Jasper's second questionnaire!
What’s your name?: “Trenton Kearns.”
↳ Nickname/Alias: “Trent, usually, but Jasper likes to call me Tree. Please don’t call me Tree.”
How old are you?: “I’m twenty-one.”
Gender?: “I’m a trans guy.”
Now, what’s your sexuality and/or romanticism?: “Ace and panromantic. Anyone works for my lovely self, so long as they don’t want in my pants. Oh, uh, I mean. Not that. Oops.”
Tell me what you look like: “I’m mixed race, so my skin is a light brown color. I have Indian ancestry, I’ve been told, so my black hair is pretty straight. It’s been cut short by someone who has no experience with cutting hair, so it’s actually kind of uneven. My bangs are all messed up, and there’s a strand of hair in the back that’s just a bit too long, but I don’t mind that much. I have dark brown eyes and a slightly angular face, and I’m 5’7. I wish I was taller. There’s a scar on the edge of my jawline, near my right ear, but it’s mostly faded. It looks kind of bad, and I don’t really like it. It’s part of my face though, so I simply must accept it. I guess… It’s not that noticeable. Just when you’re up close. Since I’m on the island, I wear mostly button up shirts and t-shirts and shorts. I, sadly, lost some of my clothes during my first run through. I know what happened to them. I know that someone didn’t like some of my shirts, and so they have left my suitcase. Uh… I don’t really know what else to say. I have a scar on my chest from my surgery, but I’m fine with talking about it. Oh. There’s also a scar on my lower back. Guess I’m just covered in scars. They’re all not even really pleasant memories, either.”
Give me those personal deets: “Hm… Uh. I guess I’m mostly pretty calm. I do like laughing and having fun with people, but I’m still kind of shy so I sometimes clam up. I like talking about the things I like, and I get excited when I get to do so. I actually think I can be something of a dork when I get excited. Um… Oh, yeah. I can be kind of proper, and maybe stuck-up? Uncouth things or inappropriate conversations tend to get on my nerves, because I’ve had some bad experiences with people not getting the message. I also am a stickler for people being polite and kind to each other, because it’s really not that hard to do. I think it’s way more difficult to be a jerk, honestly. I don’t know. I’m just me, I guess. Oh.. Oh. I also am pretty patient and I don’t like people who rush things. And I get nervous pretty frequently, but I’m trying to hide that and just accept that sometimes mistakes happen and that I’m not perfect.”
Other/Trivia: “I make a delicious raspberry pie.”
How about that backstory?: “I’ll keep it short and sweet, because I’m really not much of a story teller. I was born as a girl to a mother and father, and I had an older sister and a little brother. My family is very close with each other, so we often went over to my cousins house, or they came to our house, to hang out. My school life was rather simple, although I did attend private school for most of it. My parents wanted me to have a good education, which they thought I couldn't obtain from going to public school. They also were very strict with me getting good grades, so I didn’t get to go out with friends. Not that I even had any. I was really shy growing up, but I think a part of it was because I didn’t feel right in my own skin. I’ll spare you the details of my realization that I was trans, because, quite honestly, it was not a fun time. It was a lot of confusion and hating myself, and then learning to accept myself and worrying even further about the future.
My parents were proud of me when I graduated from high school, since I was the top of my class. And, of course, they wanted me to go to university. Even though I didn’t want to. I expressed this to them, and they wouldn’t hear it from me, since I had used the money I’d been saving up for years to get top surgery. They said I mutilated my body. I try not to think about it too much. At least some of my cousins understood, even if my parents still call me their daughter.
I ended up going to one of the universities I had applied to back when I was a junior, because I got accepted. It was not what I wanted, and after a year of going to school I decided to take a year off, to try to figure out what I did want. My parents were somewhat understanding, but they wanted me to pursue my skills, which were both science and mathematics based. A year passed, I got a pet bird, and then I applied again and got accepted again. Another year later, and I still don’t even know what I want to do when I finish school. I'm two years in and yet I'm completely lost.
I had wanted to join the experiment because I thought it’d be a nice break from my life. I wasn’t ever really social growing up, and I figured that if I was out of my comfort zone it’d help me figure out who I really was. And it did. And I’m grateful, truly, but I’m slightly worried about why I’m even still here. I’ve learned to make friends and I do believe I’ll still be friends with some of them even when I get back home… I just need to figure out why I have to do this entire thing all over again.”
Reason for joining the experiment: “I’m not entirely sure why I’m still here, but I initially wanted to join because I thought it seemed interesting. And I wanted to fall in love, potentially. I’m a bit of a romantic, truth be told. I think Jasper is too, but he’d be embarrassed if he found out I said that, so let’s not tell him.”
Tell me your secrets: “They haven’t really changed from last time. Hm. I guess I do have a new secret: I have a feeling that I know the exact reason why I’m still here. It truly sucks, and has nothing to do with the experiment. Am I right, Telly?”
Tell me your fears: “I want to be accepted and loved. My fear is not having that. I think it’d be very sad to not have that in your life. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have that in my life. Granted, my parents aren't the most understanding, but they still love me and are trying to come to terms with me being a guy. I know it was hard for them. I’m glad they’re working on it.”
Tell me your dreams: “I want my parents to call me their son, just once. That sounds sad, so I also want to open a bakery. I do enjoy baking things for people and seeing their smiles when they eat my sweets.”
Tell me a good memory from your youth: “I have better memories from the past six months then from my youth. You know when Jasper slipped and fell off a rock and landed in the ocean, even though he was entirely convinced that the rock wasn’t slippery? That’s a memory I’m fond of. He looked like a soaked golden retriever.”
Trent's first questionnaire! || And his second one, too!
↳ Nickname/Alias: “Trent calls me Jazzy and Jas. He also calls me Rood, with two o’s, he said. I don’t really like having my name shortened into anything else, if I’m being honest. Jasper works just fine, but I can’t stop Tree from calling me Jazzy, so he gets to be called Tree. Together, we are Jazzy Tree. What a fucking pair.”
How old are you?: “Nineteen.”
Gender?: “Male, forever and always.”
Now, what’s your sexuality and/or romanticism?: “Gay as fuck, but no one would want to date me, so why does it even matter?”
Tell me what you look like: “White boy with medium-ish length blond hair. It’s naturally blond, and kind of wavy. I can pull it back and tie it up if I really want to. Blue eyes, but they’re kind of gray too, so, like, blue-gray eyes. I guess I’d be attractive, if I had a decent personality. Attractive in like, not the super macho way, but more cute. I guess. I’m 5’9 and not a skinny beanpole or chubby, since I actually go for runs pretty frequently. Gotta be fit for when I finally land that hot date, ya know! And… that’s it, right? I just wear dark and dreary clothes, but I know how to style them because I’m not an animal, and, oh, gee! How could I forget my freckles. All over my damn body. But mostly on my cheeks and arms. They’re not charming or endearing or cute; they’re a nuisance.”
Give me those personal deets: “The long and short of it is that I’m an asshole. Like, basically. I mean, God, not really, but Jesus. What should I say? That I’m just prickly because I failed last time, although I actually thought I was doing better? And yet I still bombed the experiment, even though I liked someone and actually made a human friend. I had a bet with Telly that I wouldn’t succeed last time, and I won, so I decided to dig a hole and live in it. That’s what it is. Who cares? God, ya know, I know Telly would absolutely scold me for being so abrasive, so: I’m not really a jerk. It’s truly amazing, wow, extraordinary. I actually get pretty damn attached to people, but I have no friends, so therefore I have no attachments. Except Telly. If anyone hurts that robot, I will cut off their hands and feed them to the sharks. I also have a sense of humor and am not a complete and total jerk, because it goes against my coding. Robot jokes. Great. Fucking nerd. I like animals and robots, obviously, and I don’t want people to get hurt. Like, I’ll get annoyed if people end up hurting themselves over stupid things. Sure, yes, get in a fight, but make sure it’s really worth it. And also, humans, by nature, are not assholes. Just like me. Not an asshole by nature - just hurt. And angry. And trying to be better. It’s a work in progress.”
Other/Trivia: “Do you want a fun fact? Sure ya do. I named the robot when he was first made. His name’s Telltale, but I call him Telly, because I tell him all the things. He sees all the things, too, I swear to God. His name really suits his purpose. Oh, and also? This experiment? It’s ridiculous - I don’t know why people actually believe in it. Prove me wrong, Telly. Find someone who’s my match again, because Trent really worked out, didn’t he?”
How about that backstory?:
"Backstory, huh? I was born to two loving parents in Oregon. I think I’ll refer to them as Mom and Dad, because, ya know, that’s their names. What I called them, all my life. Mom was a stay at home mom during my younger years, until I started kindergarten. Dad was a professor at a popular, fancy university, and he taught robotics. He actually got paid pretty well, because robots are the future, as everyone knows. We weren’t poor growing up, and I got to take piano lessons and dance lessons and martial arts classes all throughout my childhood and high school years. Though I stopped taking dance lessons when I was a freshman, because I was more interested in other things. Dance wasn’t my passion, like, at all. I only did it because my mom did back when she was a kid, and I honestly liked it too, but I wanted to try other things.
Anyway, big events that happened over my lifetime. Nothing that major, honestly. I came out to my parents when I was thirteen and they were cool with it, which I still appreciate, because I’ve heard the stories of how hellish it can be. I was stupidly popular all throughout my life, I was friendly and outgoing and my house was the coolest place to hangout at after school. I got invited to every single party and always had people to sit with at lunch, or to go to dances with, or to just text and hang out with. I also got asked out a lot, because of my freckles, I bet, but nothing really came from any of those past relationships. Like, yeah, I did probably fall in love with someone, but he broke my heart, so it’s whatever. I’m not still bitter about it or anything. We were stupid and young. I’m way better now, obviously. I broke my arm by falling in a sewer, which I went into on a dare with a guy I had a crush on. In hindsight, what a stupid fucking idea. It was so gross.
The sad parts? We had a cat named Chance throughout most of my life, until he passed away when I was twelve. Old age. In his sleep. I was heartbroken. I still miss him. My parents rescued him from a horrible storm before I was born, and they told me he had injuries that were life threatening, but my parents decided he deserved a second chance and they decided to take him to the vet and take care of him. Hence his name. My mom ended up getting a job back when I was like five, and she became a nurse. I remember watching her work late at night, after I was supposed to be in bed. One of my favorite memories is seeing her doze off to sleep at the table, and watching as my dad got her a blanket and sat with her until she woke up. Just watching her sleep, and laughing at the doodles in her notebook. He drank the coffee that she had, because he didn’t want it to go cold, and because they drank the exact same coffee drink. That’s actually how they met, but that’s a story for a different time. My mom loved being a nurse, and she always regaled Dad and I with stories about the kids that she got to work with. I’ll admit it; I was kind of a jealous brat, thinking that those kids got to see my mom more than I did. It really bugged me when I was like six and seven, but I ended up crying about it and my mom comforted me. As moms do, if they’re a good fucking parent. I grew out of it, and we were such a happy family. Mom was there when I woke up every morning (and, sure Dad was too), and she always made me lunch to take to school, so I never had to wait in line. She drew silly things on notes and left them in my lunchbox everyday, even when I was older. I loved them, and I fought with anyone who even dared tease me about them. I miss them.
My mom ended up getting into a car crash on her way home from the grocery store when I was sixteen. It wasn’t her fault: some jackass ran a red light and t-boned her. I remember that same day, we were going to go get a cat at the shelter. My dad had taken a day off work and I got to skip school, because the event was pretty big. A new pet, after four years! Except we never went. Because my mom died. Her injuries were severe and life threatening, and although the doctors thought she might pull through for her family, she didn’t manage to make her way back to us.
I guess she didn’t get a second chance.
Needless to say, that fucking sucked. Hard. To make matters even worse, my dad ended up blaming himself, and I was pissed too, because I could have been the one to go get the stupid fucking cupcakes. I had my license. But no, my mom said, it won’t take very long. I’ll be back in a heartbeat. You won’t even notice I’m gone. She had insisted she go, because she was worried about me driving by myself, since I was still a relatively new driver. It was supposed to be less than fifteen minutes, because she was going to the grocery store that we always went to, which was so close to our house. After that amount of time passed, we were worried. The thing about my mom is that she was always on time, for everything. She always kept her word. But Dad and I heard the sirens. And it was not a good feeling.
After the funeral, my dad told me we were moving to California. After I spent sixteen years in Oregon, with all my friends, and all my plans, and my mom. After I spent sixteen years in the same house, which probably still has that dumb rubber duck in the wall that I left behind after I accidentally poked a hole in it. After everything. I had to say goodbye to my friends, which also sucked, and then we went and moved.
California was nice, but I was not. I was so angry at my dad, because he just left everything that we had behind and acted like it was a new start. I didn’t want a new start. I wanted my old friends and my house. I wanted my mom. I wanted at least one friend that I could talk to, or some pet, or something, because my dad’s new job took him away from me. He was now making robots, instead of teaching about them. He knew that he fucked up by getting the new job, but he was so passionate about it. I didn’t care. We ended up getting into some pretty bad fights in my late teens, and I also got arrested once, because I was an idiot. He actually came home to bail me out, which was great. I didn’t get arrested again, though, because those cuffs aren’t pleasant. Plus, I… I didn’t want to disappoint my dad. Although he disappoints me, but he also works with robots, which is badass, but still.
I did make some new friends after we moved, but I wasn’t the same. I evolved into a grade-A asshole. I don’t know why people tolerated me. After I graduated from high school, I didn’t talk to them again, and they didn’t reach out to me. It was fine, though, because I did have one friend by my side. I also ended up becoming way too interested in robots, because my dad was so passionate about his job, and now I’m studying it in college. I’m going to beat him at his own game.
About six months ago, I found out about the experiment from a source. I was eighteen, and I didn't even want to do it, but I was basically forced to anyway. See, the thing is, I don't want to make friends or fall in love. But since I was forced to come initially, and since I failed the first time around, I get to go again, but this time I get to be the fucking tour guide. With Trent. It's fucking great, and it'll definitely help. Maybe this time around, as the goddamn guide, the person that I like might actually like me back, but I highly doubt that. In fact, my trust in this experiment?
It’s sitting at about zero.”
✩ This following information will NOT be included in the main character thread, but keep this information included when you PM me your sheets! ✩
(I’m including it so you can see what I’m looking for.)
Reason for joining the experiment:
“I was forced.”
Tell me your secrets:
“Suck my dick? Wait, actually, don’t listen to me, Telly. Don’t learn that word. Erase it from your memory, please. Ya know, it’s not a secret, but I guess I do wonder why Trent’s even still here. Didn’t he succeed already? Am I missing something? Why is a nice guy like him still stuck on this island, when he made so many friends last time? Like, the dude even likes ME, so why is he still here?”
Tell me your fears:
“Ducks. Quack quack. Not really. I actually love ducks. They’re cute. I wanted one as a pet, before I was whisked away. You want a fear? My fear is that I’ll be stuck on this island forever, until the day I die, because of certain reasons that I cannot divulge for some other asinine reason. And I don’t like the dark that much. And geese. The bastards.”
Tell me your dreams:
“Casually skips the question. Actually, nah, I’ll answer this too. My dream is to become a better person. Hopefully I can accomplish it this time around without burning down all my bridges.”
Tell me a good memory from your youth:
“Every year, on the nineteenth of December, my mom and dad would take me to go pick out a tree at the Christmas tree farm. When we got home, my mom would make some hot chocolate while my dad set the tree up. After the tree was up, we’d all work together to decorate it. We had this tradition of picking out a new ornament each year, so we always put our new ornaments onto the tree first. I got to go first, every year. We had a playlist that had the best Christmas songs on it, and we always danced around and sang along to the songs. After the hot coco got cold, it always got cold before we got to drink it, we had eggnog and watched whatever Christmas movie was on TV. I got to open two presents. It was always a perfect day. Makes sense, because it’s my birthday, and my parents were amazing. Too bad mom’s dead and dad’s too busy to spend time with his lonely, loser, lameass son.”
This is Jasper's second questionnaire!
What’s your name?: “Trenton Kearns.”
↳ Nickname/Alias: “Trent, usually, but Jasper likes to call me Tree. Please don’t call me Tree.”
How old are you?: “I’m twenty-one.”
Gender?: “I’m a trans guy.”
Now, what’s your sexuality and/or romanticism?: “Ace and panromantic. Anyone works for my lovely self, so long as they don’t want in my pants. Oh, uh, I mean. Not that. Oops.”
Tell me what you look like: “I’m mixed race, so my skin is a light brown color. I have Indian ancestry, I’ve been told, so my black hair is pretty straight. It’s been cut short by someone who has no experience with cutting hair, so it’s actually kind of uneven. My bangs are all messed up, and there’s a strand of hair in the back that’s just a bit too long, but I don’t mind that much. I have dark brown eyes and a slightly angular face, and I’m 5’7. I wish I was taller. There’s a scar on the edge of my jawline, near my right ear, but it’s mostly faded. It looks kind of bad, and I don’t really like it. It’s part of my face though, so I simply must accept it. I guess… It’s not that noticeable. Just when you’re up close. Since I’m on the island, I wear mostly button up shirts and t-shirts and shorts. I, sadly, lost some of my clothes during my first run through. I know what happened to them. I know that someone didn’t like some of my shirts, and so they have left my suitcase. Uh… I don’t really know what else to say. I have a scar on my chest from my surgery, but I’m fine with talking about it. Oh. There’s also a scar on my lower back. Guess I’m just covered in scars. They’re all not even really pleasant memories, either.”
Give me those personal deets: “Hm… Uh. I guess I’m mostly pretty calm. I do like laughing and having fun with people, but I’m still kind of shy so I sometimes clam up. I like talking about the things I like, and I get excited when I get to do so. I actually think I can be something of a dork when I get excited. Um… Oh, yeah. I can be kind of proper, and maybe stuck-up? Uncouth things or inappropriate conversations tend to get on my nerves, because I’ve had some bad experiences with people not getting the message. I also am a stickler for people being polite and kind to each other, because it’s really not that hard to do. I think it’s way more difficult to be a jerk, honestly. I don’t know. I’m just me, I guess. Oh.. Oh. I also am pretty patient and I don’t like people who rush things. And I get nervous pretty frequently, but I’m trying to hide that and just accept that sometimes mistakes happen and that I’m not perfect.”
Other/Trivia: “I make a delicious raspberry pie.”
How about that backstory?: “I’ll keep it short and sweet, because I’m really not much of a story teller. I was born as a girl to a mother and father, and I had an older sister and a little brother. My family is very close with each other, so we often went over to my cousins house, or they came to our house, to hang out. My school life was rather simple, although I did attend private school for most of it. My parents wanted me to have a good education, which they thought I couldn't obtain from going to public school. They also were very strict with me getting good grades, so I didn’t get to go out with friends. Not that I even had any. I was really shy growing up, but I think a part of it was because I didn’t feel right in my own skin. I’ll spare you the details of my realization that I was trans, because, quite honestly, it was not a fun time. It was a lot of confusion and hating myself, and then learning to accept myself and worrying even further about the future.
My parents were proud of me when I graduated from high school, since I was the top of my class. And, of course, they wanted me to go to university. Even though I didn’t want to. I expressed this to them, and they wouldn’t hear it from me, since I had used the money I’d been saving up for years to get top surgery. They said I mutilated my body. I try not to think about it too much. At least some of my cousins understood, even if my parents still call me their daughter.
I ended up going to one of the universities I had applied to back when I was a junior, because I got accepted. It was not what I wanted, and after a year of going to school I decided to take a year off, to try to figure out what I did want. My parents were somewhat understanding, but they wanted me to pursue my skills, which were both science and mathematics based. A year passed, I got a pet bird, and then I applied again and got accepted again. Another year later, and I still don’t even know what I want to do when I finish school. I'm two years in and yet I'm completely lost.
I had wanted to join the experiment because I thought it’d be a nice break from my life. I wasn’t ever really social growing up, and I figured that if I was out of my comfort zone it’d help me figure out who I really was. And it did. And I’m grateful, truly, but I’m slightly worried about why I’m even still here. I’ve learned to make friends and I do believe I’ll still be friends with some of them even when I get back home… I just need to figure out why I have to do this entire thing all over again.”
Reason for joining the experiment: “I’m not entirely sure why I’m still here, but I initially wanted to join because I thought it seemed interesting. And I wanted to fall in love, potentially. I’m a bit of a romantic, truth be told. I think Jasper is too, but he’d be embarrassed if he found out I said that, so let’s not tell him.”
Tell me your secrets: “They haven’t really changed from last time. Hm. I guess I do have a new secret: I have a feeling that I know the exact reason why I’m still here. It truly sucks, and has nothing to do with the experiment. Am I right, Telly?”
Tell me your fears: “I want to be accepted and loved. My fear is not having that. I think it’d be very sad to not have that in your life. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have that in my life. Granted, my parents aren't the most understanding, but they still love me and are trying to come to terms with me being a guy. I know it was hard for them. I’m glad they’re working on it.”
Tell me your dreams: “I want my parents to call me their son, just once. That sounds sad, so I also want to open a bakery. I do enjoy baking things for people and seeing their smiles when they eat my sweets.”
Tell me a good memory from your youth: “I have better memories from the past six months then from my youth. You know when Jasper slipped and fell off a rock and landed in the ocean, even though he was entirely convinced that the rock wasn’t slippery? That’s a memory I’m fond of. He looked like a soaked golden retriever.”
Trent's first questionnaire! || And his second one, too!